


and ocean too, with all its solemn noise

by sizhu



Series: consider everything that grows [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Insecure Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13597188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sizhu/pseuds/sizhu
Summary: Sometimes we all need a little reassurance. Sometimes it comes from time alone on a cold beach. Sometimes it comes from a loved one freezing their ass off with you on said cold beach.In which Viktor thinks he's undeserving, and Yuuri has some words about that.





	and ocean too, with all its solemn noise

**Author's Note:**

> Title from John Keats's _Hyperion_.

Ever since that first day, the ocean had become something of theirs. Sometimes Yuuri’s, sometimes Viktor’s, and sometimes both of theirs together. At the moment, it was Viktor’s. He sat on the very same patch of sand where they had their first heart to heart. The gulls cried overhead, dancing across a dull slate sky. Waves crashed against the shore while the wind buffeted silver hair out of place. Sound roared in his ears, but not quite loud enough to drown out his thoughts. Viktor sighed, pulling his knees up to his chin in what he thought was a pitiful copy of Yuuri’s initial opening up. He buried his face into his knees. His back was stiff—the windchill would make him ache soon—but his shoulders shook. He wasn’t sure if it was from the cold wind or if he’d actually started to cry. He wasn’t even sure if he had a _reason_ to cry, but there he was, curled into himself on the sand. Salt air stung his skin and nose. He didn’t hear anyone approach.

A solid, heavy presence dropped itself into the sand next to him. The warm weight of a blanket encompassed his shoulders, and—oh, it brought that presence next to him closer. Viktor didn’t dare peek, though. The comfort seemed almost too good to be true.

“I won’t ask if you’re okay because I know you’re not,” Yuuri whispered, leaning against Viktor and putting an arm around his waist. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mentally, Viktor knew he should—Yuuri would listen to him. Wouldn’t judge. Wouldn’t offer anything but his ear and shoulder unless Viktor asked for it. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He shook his head, not bothering to lift his face from his knees.

“Okay.” Yuuri pressed a kiss to Viktor’s shoulder. “Do you want me to stay here with you?”

Viktor nodded. He’d take Yuuri’s shoulder and his solid support, even if he couldn’t force himself to speak. He felt Yuuri settle in more comfortably now that he’d been given permission to stay. He felt Yuuri’s arm slip away from his waist and his hand trace, feather-light, down his forearm. Yuuri’s fingers were warm against his arm, even through the fabric of Viktor’s long sleeves. His fingers slid further down, gingerly prying Viktor’s arm away from his knees and taking Viktor’s hand. Their fingers locked together like a perfect match. Viktor didn’t protest. Instead, as Yuuri’s thumb roved lazy circles over Viktor’s hand, he relaxed. The only stiffness that remained in him was a result of the cold.

They sat there like that for what felt like hours. At some point, Viktor forgot what his fingers even felt like. It didn’t deter him from keeping them locked with Yuuri’s. Yuuri didn’t seem to mind, either. Eventually, Viktor lifted his head to look at Yuuri. He blinked his eyes, surprised to find them painfully dry; he’d thought he’d been crying. He wiped at his face anyway.

“Yuuri…?”

Yuuri wordlessly acknowledged him, bringing their hands up and kissing each of his knuckles. He didn’t ask if Viktor was ready, didn’t make any kind of potentially encouraging comment. He simply sat there, a grounding weight against Viktor’s side, while he held Viktor’s hand tight. Viktor took comfort in the motion, took strength from it—from _him_. He took a breath.

“Yuuri, what did I do to deserve you in my life…?”

“Hm…” Yuuri slipped his fingers from Viktor’s, rubbing his arm. He brought Viktor’s hand back up, kissing his palm and the inside of his wrist. “Do you want the whole version or the abridged?”

“ _Yuuri_.” Viktor bit his lip.

“Sorry.” Yuuri smiled gently. He kissed Viktor’s wrist again before kissing his cheek. “I love you. Unconditionally.”

“I don’t—”

“Let me finish, Vitya,” Yuuri said, pressing an index finger to Viktor’s lips. “My love for you isn’t a matter of deserving or not deserving. But since you ask it like that, I’ll explain it the best I can. You flew halfway across the world for me, a crazy drunk you met _once_. When you found out I had—still have—no memory of that night, you didn’t pack up and leave.

“Even _before_ you found out I didn’t remember anything, you respected my boundaries. Those first few days were rough, yeah, but… Viktor, you didn’t push me further than I was willing to go. When I completely shut down, you didn’t drag me out, with the on exception being where we are right now. I love you because you _cared_. You cared enough to let me have my space and you still do. The only difference is that now… You’re better at it. You know when I need space and you know when I need to be pulled out of my own head when I don’t want to. And… Maybe this is the most important part, but you stopped _pretending_ with me. You stopped trying to be whatever you thought I wanted at any given time. When I asked you to be yourself, you did. You still are. And I love every bit of you. Every part—from the octopus I wake up to in the morning to moments like these when you need a little help.”

“Like you’re one to talk about octopusing,” Viktor muttered, but he was smiling now. It was wobbly, watery with his eyes misting over. Yuuri knew exactly what to say, and Viktor loved him for it. And for an encyclopedia’s worth of other things as well. When Yuuri’s finger moved from his lips, cupping his palm over his cheek, Viktor leaned into it. He closed his eyes, sighing. “…I’m sorry.”

“What do you and everyone else tell me when I get like this?” Yuuri asked. Viktor could hear the smile in his voice.

“… ‘Say _thank you_ , not _I_ _’m sorry_ ’.” Viktor snorted softly, cracking his eyes open. “You’re really something else…”

“No more ‘something else’ than you are, Vitya.” Yuuri kissed the tip of Viktor’s nose. “I love you. Now, let’s get you inside before we both catch our deaths out here. It’s freezing.”

“Mmn,” Viktor agreed. “Smells like a storm coming, too…”

“Then let’s go home and make a blanket fort with your ridiculous number of pillows.”

 

And that’s what they did. Yuuri walked Viktor up the bank and back into the inn, huddled under the blanket with him. They toed off their shoes and went upstairs in tandem, one body of limbs under a heavy blanket that all but cocooned them. Hiroko paused to ask if they wanted dinner, but Yuuri, poking his head out, smiled and shook his head—he’d get it later. For now, they had a nest of pillows and blankets to build.

By the time they fell asleep, they’d erected a surprisingly structurally sound fort. The aforementioned storm had blown in on the tail of the whistling salt winds they’d previously been sitting through. Their fort-nest-sanctuary was warm and cozy. Comfortable to the point where staying awake had been impossible for any length of time.

Most of all, it was _safe_.

**Author's Note:**

> It's a free day and what do I write? fucking _feelings_.


End file.
